


That's Just What You Are

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Explicit Language, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Content, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-03
Updated: 2006-12-03
Packaged: 2018-10-01 04:58:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10181210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: "...Eventually, I slip my hand into his jacket pocket and lace my fingers with his. The slight hitch of his breath is the only sign that this is something out of the ordinary..." Can Draco ever change for Harry, and does Harry even want him to?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Disclaimer – I don't own them (JKR does), I don't own the song (Aimee Mann does), I profit from neither, and I'm a review-whore. 

 

 

_(one, two)_

_In our endeavour we are never seeing eye to eye_  
No guts to sever so forever may we wave good-bye  
And you're always telling me that it's my turn to move  
When I wonder what could make the needle jump the groove 

 

I hear his voice, Wednesday is karaoke night, and Harry loves karaoke. For a few blissful moments I stand and listen in the doorway, letting his perfect voice caress my senses. We fought, again, and it was my fault, again. It's always my fault, and even though he refrains from telling me that, I know it is the truth. I guess you want some history, right? Well, I hate talking about it. I hate talking about anything that means something. And I hate, with a burning passion, this skanky little pub and its skanky little karaoke night. But I suppose, as I'm at the pub, I could bring myself to tell you how we got together. 

It's simple; we both hurt. We both fought in the final battle, I shocked even him by stepping calmly up to his right side and annihilating Bellatrix, an act which kept him alive. He returned the favour when an irate Rodolphus tried to avenge her, and so we both owed each other out lives. That simple bond, we used, and we penetrated the ranks of Death Eaters until it was Harry and Voldemort. He asked me to watch his back while he went after Voldemort, and it never once crossed my mind to do anything else. 

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't in love with him. I didn't particularly like him, but I respected him. I never wanted to kill Dumbledore, but I loved my Mother more than I can ever explain. She kept my father's vicious tirades from turning violent; she shielded me from the life he wanted to lead me into, until my useless father got himself imprisoned. And then I was given the choice. Dumbledore's life or my Mother's. 

There was no contest, not really, and Dumbledore ended up dead, though not by my hand, but by Severus'. So anyway, we flee the Tower, head back to Voldemort, and he was pleased, ecstatic that Dumbledore was dead. My debt paid, I asked for my Mother, so that we could leave. He summoned her over, and then he killed her.

I know, I know; it's so anti-climatic. Just six syllables and then her life was gone. I stood there looking at her on the floor, and he asked me where my loyalty lay. I told him the truth; it lay with him. And I rose up, taking my father's place, until that final battle. On the sprawling grounds of Hogwarts, we faced them. The Order, the Ministry, the light, and Harry Potter. And I walked forward perfectly calmly, and stood by his right side. I always wondered why he didn't kill me as I approached him; he says it's because he saw in my eyes that my anger, my hatred wasn't for him. And it wasn't. 

The rest of them just went into a catatonic state of shock.

It was Bellatrix who broke first, lunging forward at him, and I killed her. I tell you that blandly, because I have made my peace with the lives I took. It wasn't hard, but I did it. Rodolphus lunged at me, and Harry returned the favour. He too made peace with the lives he took, relying on the strength he is renowned for. Then all hell broke loose, and I won't bore you with the details, there are countless history books to do that. Long story short, Harry destroyed Voldemort, and almost got himself killed in the process.

 

_I won't fall for the oldest trick in the book_  
So don't sit there and think you're off of the hook  
By saying there is no use changing  
'Cause that's just what you are  
That's just what you are 

 

So, the two of us end up in Mungo's, and we're there the longest; long after everyone else had been cleared. We talk, and form a friendship, and it is perfect. When we are released, it seems stupid to split up only to be alone, so we move into Grimmauld Place together. And then we were together, neither of us asked or questioned or fought, we just fell into each other's arms, each other's beds, each other's lives.

And then each other's hearts.

He told me he loved me, and I laughed. I saw his heart break in his eyes; he hadn't been joking, and I cried. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, to explain to him that I can't love him, because I lose the people I love, and if I can just _not_ love him I can keep him a little longer. I expected him to leave me then, but he didn't. He smiled, and nodded, and told me that was OK, then took me to bed. 

He still thinks I don't know why he did that. But I do. He thought that it was my way of telling him I loved him. And over time, I realised he was right. 

 

_Act steady always read to defend your fears_  
What's the matter with the truth did I offend your ears  
By suggesting that a change might be a thing to try  
Like it would kill you just to try and be a nicer guy 

 

That was almost a year ago, and it just became accepted. I spend time with his friends, he spends time with mine. Though admittedly, spending time with his friends in a pub or a club or each other's homes is infinitely more enjoyable to standing with me over the graves of my friends, but he does it with me. He stands far enough away that what I say to them, especially to Mother, remains just between me and them, but he stands close enough to show me that he's there to catch me. 

And inevitably, I fall. And inevitably, he catches me.

 

_It's not like you would lose some critical piece_  
If somehow you moved point A to point B  
Maintaining there is no point Changing  
'Cause that's just what you are  
That's just what you are 

 

The fights started, maybe three months ago. We've always fought; we're too different to get on all the time. But three months ago, the fights changed. He wanted me to change who I was, to show him the kind of love, and devotion, that he shows to me. And I tried to explain to him, that I just couldn't. That it's not who I am, and I can’t help that. But Harry was tired of that excuse, and he refused to hear it. The song, that he's singing now, I know he means me. And he's right, as his voice caresses the words, he's right to ask why I'm so sure that it would kill me to be nicer.

 

_Now I could talk to you 'til I'm blue in the face_  
But we still would arrive at the very same place  
With you running around and me out of the race 

 

The thing is, I don't want to be a nicer guy, I like how I am now. But I don't want Harry to be out of the race. Which is why I'm stood here, in this skanky pub on the skanky karaoke night, trying to figure out how to make him understand. Because right now he won't speak to me. Which is an understatement – he threw me out on Sunday. 

I never thought that he would really follow through on that threat, but he did. I woke up, around noon, and he wasn't there. I hate not waking up with him, the bed is big and cold when he isn't there. It feels like I'm drowning in the expensive silk sheets without him there to ground me, and since Sunday it's felt like I'm drowning in air, and I guess I probably needed that, to see that he grounds me in so many ways. 

What was I saying again? Oh yeah, I woke up on Sunday and went to find him. He was in the kitchen, and drinking coffee, black. I knew right then it was going to be bad, and I sat down opposite him. I think I cracked a joke about whether it was too late for morning sex, and he flinched. 

"I can't do this anymore. I tried, to have a relationship with you, and you resisted. So I tried it your way, and guess what Draco, I hated it. I tried to change for you Draco, but the truth is I don't think you even noticed. And I know that you won't make that effort for me, so I won't even ask. But this isn't what I want from my life, and it was you that told me I should go for what I want. Take as much time as you need to find an apartment, but we have to end this, because it isn't fair for either of us."

He didn't look at me the whole time he spoke, and then he looked up, and his eyes…I watched his heart breaking all over again in those impossible eyes, and stood up abruptly. He was going to say something that would unravel me, and I had to get in there first.

"You're even nice when you're dumping me."

"How can I be dumping you when we weren't even together, not really?"

I smiled at him, and nodded softly.

"I guess. I'll go pack up."

I think he thought I was callous, but in truth I had just died on the inside. I'd wondered sometimes, when we'd had a bad fight, what I'd do if he left me. I always imagined tears and screaming; dying on the inside necessitates tears and screaming, or so I thought. Turns out I was wrong. I just went cold; I packed and I left and I apparated to the Manor, and it hit me why I was so calm. I'll tell him, later if he'll let me, why I was so calm, but I don't know that he'll listen anyway.

 

_So maybe you're right nobody can take_  
Something older than time and hope you could make  
It better that would be a mistake 

 

I slip into the bar-room, his voice still assaulting my senses, and I hear his friends, discussing me. I pause, not wanting them to realise I'm there before I've heard what they're saying. It's Irish's voice I make out first.

"So no-one's died, but Harry's singing Aimee Mann; what gives?"

Hermione answers him, still the fountain of all knowledge.

"His relationship with Draco has hit the rocks, from what he says."

So he hasn't told his friends we're over? That's a good sign…right? But then Weaslebee, who still can't quite understand that I'm not my father, scoffs.

"Him and Draco don't have a relationship – they have sex! Like Draco would have a relationship with anyone; he'd have to stop being a selfish prat!"

"Ron don't…Hi Draco!"

I smile, and take a seat next to Hermione, kissing her cheek and downing the rest of Weaslebee's pint, taking great delight in him not knowing which of my two actions to get worked up over first. He looks constipated when he's thinking, even Harry agrees with me on that. Speaking of which, he's finished singing, and he's coming over now…

 

_So take it just so far_  
'Cause that's just what you are  
That's just what you are  
That's just what you are 

 

"Draco."

"Hey, you got a drink yet?"

"Finished it before I went up."

"Want one?"

"I'll have…"

"A snakebite, I know. Anyone else?"

I take their orders, and go to the bar. Even though he didn't ask for one, I get Weaslebee a new pint, and set it in front of him without a show. We talk and laugh, as though my world didn't end on Sunday, and when they yell out last orders I get another round, even though it isn’t my turn. Eventually the barmaid kicks us out, and we say goodbye to his friends…to our friends…and watch as they all leave. Harry looks at me, stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and then starts walking towards his house. Our house. I walk with him, in silence, and he lets me. Eventually, I slip my hand into his jacket pocket and lace my fingers with his. The slight hitch of his breath is the only sign that this is something out of the ordinary, and it emboldens me, so I gently take our hands out of his pocket, fingers still clasped, swinging our arms gently as we walk.

Why little old ladies walk the streets at night I'll never know, but as we walk we see one such member of the blue-rinse brigade heading our way. We stop, and move to let her get past, falling into single file, but I keep a hold of Harry's hand. The old dear leans heavily on her zimmer, and smiles at Harry as she passes him. I'm stood behind, and she looks at our clasped hands before smiling at me. This old woman thinks we're the epitome of young love, and I find that I don't mind a bit. Harry spares a soft smile for me as I move to walk next to him again, and he pulls our hands back into his pocket, because it's cold out at midnight, and neither of us have any gloves.

"I can't keep picking up your pieces Draco when you won't pick up mine."

"I never asked you to."

"You shouldn't have to ask. You break, and I mend you, but you don't do that for me. You break me, and you never stop to put me together again."

"When did I break you?"

"When you left on Sunday. You were so calm, and you broke me. Just like you break me every time I tell you I love you and you smile and kiss me and stay silent. That silence rips me into pieces, and I just can't be pieces, I need to be whole."

"Then I'll make you whole. I never meant to break you, and I never thought that you needed mending; I'd have mended you if I did, but you never let that show. You're too worried about being the hero, and I forget that sometime you need to be the victim too."

We reach number twelve, and he meets my eyes.

"Want some coffee?"

"Nope, but a fuck wouldn't go amiss."

He could have flown off the handle then, but he doesn't. He unlocks the door and leans on the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest as he looks at me stood on his doorstep. I'm not going to beg, and he shakes his head softly.

"You know I won't say no."

I smile at him, and pull my trunk out of my pocket, returning it to its normal size with a flick of my fingers. He laughs, and stands up straighter.

"You were so sure I'd take you back?"

"You didn't tell your friends we'd split up."

"I know. I guess, we didn’t split up, not in a way they'd understand, because we were never together anyway. And you knew I'd let you back in."

"Of course I did, that's what you are, predictable and dependable."

He looks hurt, but I don't let it phase me, I keep speaking.

"I knew you'd let me in, because you can't live without me; you wouldn't have put up with all my shit if that wasn't true. And you knew I'd come back because you know I love you."

He's holding on to the doorframe for support, and I smile at him.

"What did you say?"

"That I knew you'd let me in…"

"Not that bullshit, the other thing! Draco, what did you say?"

"That I love you."

"Don't…don't you dare just say that because you want a shag or a roof over your head…"

"…or a relationship with you?"

His visibly baulks at this, and I smile again, stepping forward, standing nose to nose with him. I'm about to say my pièce de résistance when he kisses me, hard and shameless and on the doorstep of his house in full view of the world. So I do the only rational thing I can do, I kiss him back, sliding my arms around his lithe frame and pushing myself against him. We kiss hungrily, like teenagers kiss; there is nothing in the world that can feel better than kissing Harry right now, or so I think until his gorgeous cock brushes against my own bulging jeans, and I wrench away from the kiss, panting as we stand there letting all the heat of the house out into the cold night air.

"Yes or no Harry?"

"Yes. It's always been yes."

 

_Acting steady always ready_  
To defend your fears  
(that's just what you are)  
What's the matter with the truth  
Did I offend your ears  
(that's just what you are)  
You're like a sleepwalking man  
It's a danger to wake you  
(that's just what you are)  
Even when it is apparent  
Where your actions will take you  
(that's just what you are) 

 

He's right, of course, it's always been yes. I drag that damn trunk inside and slam the door, yanking off our clothes as Harry wards the house. As soon as his lips have finished moving I put them to better use, wrapping them up in my own as I pull his naked body against mine, lifting him up as his strong legs wrap around my middle. I'm bigger, I've always been bigger, and I carry him up the stairs with ease, heading into the bedroom and depositing Harry on the bed gently, climbing on top of him without once breaking the kiss.

As the lube hits my hand I close my fingers around it and break the kiss. It's the only time I've had him naked and writhing under me and been unsure. He looks up, through those impossibly long eyelashes that would make any other man look effeminate, but just make him look sexy, and he smiles. I meet his eyes, and I see it; I see his heart mending again. I know I promised I'd mend him, but I honestly thought it would take more than this. I'm not callous; I know how I broke him, and I thought I knew how to mend him, but I was wrong. Just being here with him, caressing him as my lover, admitting that that's what he is to me, is all he needs. So maybe this can work after all; because I sure as hell can't change.

Yanking my mind away from my own failings I kiss him softly as one lubed finger slides inside him and he bites his lip. Gods, but he looks good like that, and I kiss his closed eyelids as I slide my finger around inside of him. He whispers my name, and I whisper his right back, sliding another finger into him as we kiss. I can taste salt on his skin, and move my lips to kiss away tears that I don't think he knows he's crying. Two fingers have become three, and I can't hold on much longer, but I can't be responsible for hurting him any further either, so I force myself to still, and focus on relaxing his tight muscles.

I feel when he's ready, and draw my fingers out slowly, laughing against his lips when he growls discontentedly. Slicking my own aching cock as his greedy green eyes watch, I position myself at his entrance and slip just my head inside him. Moving my hands to frame his head, already beautifully surrounded by raven locks that just beg to be tugged and played with, I drive home quickly, and his groan of pleasure is lost as his name falls from my lips again.

We move together perfectly, his hips pressing down into mine, altering my angle so that on every thrust I glide over his prostate, making his whole body tremble. His thighs are trembling so hard as they wrap around my back that I'm sure he must be getting a cramp, or be in line for the mother of all cramps when he wakes up in the morning. Never mind though, I'll be here to kiss the cramp away, to kiss it all away, and there is nothing he or I or anyone else on the blasted planet can do to prevent me being here in the morning, being here every morning.

"Draco."

His voice breaks through my mind, and I watch as his face becomes a dedication to pleasure, something no-one has ever seen, except me. I feel his thick cock banging against my abs as he cums, coating both of our chests in his seed. It's this, and the way his velvet walls clamp down around my own cock, dragging me deep into his body and holding me there, that pushes me over the edge. My arms give way and I collapse against him, burying my face in his neck as I inhale great lungfulls of air, each one tinged with Harry's scent. 

Eventually, I roll off and out of him, and he seems unsure of what to do, so I pull him towards me. I don't know how he can be unsure after a year of sleeping together, but he is, and I soothe him silently, tracing patterns on his back as he lies in my arms. The last thing I'm aware of before sleep claims me is my lover stroking away tears I have no recollection of crying.

 

_And that's just what you are_  
(that's just what you are)  
And that's just what you are  
(that's just what you are) 

 

It's Sunday again, and we're curled up in front of the fire, laced together so tightly that nothing can get between our bodies. Harry's head is in the crook of my neck, and every so often he presses a kiss to my skin as I stroke his hair. 

It's Sunday again, and in a week I've died inside and been reborn. Neither one of us has actually talked about what happened, and I'm scared of bringing it up, but I have to, because if I don't then the time between this Sunday and last is going to repeat itself, and I can't bear that.

"Will you listen to me?"

"Of course. Are you OK?"

"No. I'm a bastard. I'm selfish and mean and I don't do enough for you. I have the most amazing man in the world in you, and I don't honour that. But I can't change who I am Harry. I was so calm, last week, because I died inside when I realised I'd lost you, and there was nothing to get riled up, it was all ashes. I went back to the Manor, and I knew that I couldn't change. I can't change who I am, but I can't be who I am without you. But I love you. I loved you that first time you said it to me, and I just couldn’t say it back. I couldn’t lose you, and if I didn’t love you then you wouldn’t be taken from me. Does any of that make sense to you?"

He squirms in my arms, and sits facing me in my lap.

"It does. When you were gone, it hit me that I was trying to turn you into someone you're not, and I thank Merlin I didn't succeed, because then you wouldn't have been the person I love. I can be myself because I have you; I can be trusting because I know you'll kill anyone that hurts me. But I want a relationship; I want a family and a life with you that I can be proud of; I can't spend the rest of my life not hearing 'I love you' just because you're afraid to say it."

"I'm not. Not anymore. I'm always going to be a snarky bastard, but I'm your snarky bastard. My snarkiness doesn't make sense without you. This is probably the most romantic thing I will ever do, so are you paying attention?"

He smiles at me, and nods, child-like in his excitement. I focus on the box in the jeans that hadn't moved from the hall where I left them on Wednesday, and summon it to me. I open it, allowing Harry time to take in the ornate engagement band, studded all the way round with little diamonds.

"I can't be a snarky bastard without you. I can't be me without you. Will you marry me?"

He stares at the ring in silence, and then sniggers, his Slytherin side comes out at the most inopportune moments.

"If that's your only romantic gesture at least it was a good one!"

"Is that a yes?"

"It's a yes."

I slide the ring onto his finger, and the both of us stare at it, until he curls his fingers around mine, and kisses me softly.

"I can live with your faults, as long as you live with mine, and love me regardless."

"Your faults never bothered me, and I will always love you. I'll try and tell you more, because I can't go through this week again."

"You won't have to. Don't just say it because it's what I want to hear, say it because you mean it Draco."

"I've never said anything to you I didn't mean. Come on, the bed sheets are calling out how lonely they are."

He laughs as I swing him into my arms and head back up the stairs to bed, still exactly who I was when I started talking to you, but different as well. I don't know how that works, but it's the only way I can explain it. This is just who I am, and as long as Harry loves me for it, I'm not going to be too worried that I can't change.

 

_That's just what you are_


End file.
